Climate Change and Our Heritage.
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Tuesday, 2 September 2008

[poem:] Michael Yates: River

Sacred River

It's all about the living water - The way that water lives its life - Where it comes from where it's going - Under ground and under skies - It cuts its way through rock and time - Runs its way down to the seashore - In tidal conscience fills the ocean - In vaporous presence fills the skies

A River Runs Through Us

Weir down there!But we’re up hereon the murmuring bridgethe mumbling bridge,the tourniquetfor the deep woundcut by the water.

Me mam said:When she was a girl,the foam flew fierceup off the Aire,up in the air,rotted her nylons, ravaged her knees.(“Don’t say ravaged,”says me dad,“it’s not a nice word.But it doesn’t do it now,so I’ve heard.”

Me dad said:When he was a nipper,the river stunk.(“Stank,” says me mam,“is the past tense of stink”)but now, he says, it’s fit to drink.Well, almost, I think.And: only if there’s nothing better.But then – rivers!What would I know?Rivers only run through things.